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This time the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.

The Response of the Trio

Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.

Managing Nasal Congestion

When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.

The Vocalist’s Health Routine

So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.

What Happened Next

I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.